Feels Like Home To Me
by accidental-mermaid
Summary: Rachel is trapped in an abusive, controlling marriage. Finn is escaping a dark past, attempting to begin fresh in this new neighborhood. As their relationship deepens, so does the danger.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One.

Rachel woke to the quiet buzzing of her alarm. _Oh, no_, she thought. _How late am I this time?_ She sprang from her bed quickly, switching the alarm off and dashing toward the door. She could already hear the clanging in the kitchen, and she silently cursed herself before creeping the door open and moving herself to the next room.

"Good morning," he said in a frosty tone. She lowered her gaze to the floor and prepared for the worst. She nodded when he began taking long strides toward her, and braced herself for the impact. When there wasn't one, she looked up into his chilly blue eyes and for a moment, said a prayer for her reprieve.

It didn't last long.

With a quick blow, she was on the floor, warm liquid oozing from her lip. She didn't cry out, no, she learned her lesson last time. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood dripping onto the hardwood floors, however, and she swiftly wiped them with her shirtsleeve before he caught a glimpse.

"Get up," he commanded, towering over her, his eyes hard. She took his hand and rose up off the ground, touching his face.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how I-" she pleaded, but he had already turned away from her touch. He shook his head, sliding on his jacket.

"I don't care. Make sure it doesn't happen again. You were lucky today."

She chuckled silently. _Lucky_, she thought. _Not quite the word I'd use._ As he slammed the door on his way out, she sat back on the floor, melting into a puddle of tears. She sobbed for countless minutes, holding her torso tightly and praying for rescue.

A knock at the door pulled her from her state. She quickly composed herself, as she'd been trained to do. She fixed her appearance, glancing quickly into the hallway mirror before responding to the caller.

When she opened the door, she came face to face with…a chest. She gazed upward, meeting warm, loving eyes and for a moment, found herself speechless. The slight grin he'd been wearing wore off quickly as he took an inventory of her appearance, including the split, swollen lip she was sporting.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a soft voice, looking over his shoulder and then back at her.

She waited a beat, and then gave him her thousand-watt smile. "Absolutely!" she said cheerily. "What can I help you with?"

He was unsure, but her nonchalant attitude allowed him to brush it aside. He still examined her lip, wondering how such an ugly mark could end up on such a beautiful woman.

She waited for his response, and prodded him when he continued to take inventory of the short girl standing in front of him.

"Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat. "I just moved up the road, in that green house with the white shutters."

She nodded, sticking her hand out. "I'm Rachel Berry-Karofsky."

He took her hand, entranced by her beautiful smile and even more charming eyes. "I'm Finn Hudson."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

He was funny. She hadn't laughed this way in a long time. She invited him in for coffee, but both opted for tea instead. As they sat across from each other, she took advantage of her view, examining him closely. He had some kind of tattoo on his inner forearm, hidden slightly by the rolled-up sleeve of his sweater.

She looked up when he stopped talking, noticing that he was looking at her and a blush crept across her cheeks. She'd been caught staring. He wasn't looking to bust her chops, though, no. He was examining her just the same.

Especially the bruise that had started to form on the sleek jaw he suddenly found himself longing to brush his fingers on. He looked back into her eyes, worry lining his face. She licked her lips, breaking the gaze and clearing her throat.

"I know I'm a stranger," he said quietly, looking at the cup in his hands and swirling it lightly. "But I'm no stranger to that. How long have you been married?"

Her eyes widened at his accusation, her first instinct to deny it. She was a former star, beaten down in more ways than one, but she refused to let her pride take a hit as her body has.

"What exactly are you implying?" she attempted to sound offended, but the squeak in her voice gave her away. He waited, and when she saw he wasn't going to give, she stood. "You should probably go."

He stood as well, bending slightly to get a close look at her face. He shook his head, leaning back up and striding toward the door. She opened the door, beginning to lead him out, when she ran into her husband.

"Dave!" she called out, her eyes wide. She cursed herself for allowing Finn into their home when he was out. He looked from Finn to his wife, anger boiling inside of him.

The silence overwhelming, she interrupted his thoughts with an introduction. "This is Finn Hudson. He just moved into Ms. Sylvester's old place."

He took Finn in, his height obviously impressive. After a beat, he stuck his hand out for a handshake. Finn grabbed his hand in return, studying the man standing before him. He looked like a genuine guy, and Finn began to wonder when it was that he had decided to hit his wife.

"Dave Karofsky," he said, his voice even. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise," Finn responded shortly, turning back to Rachel. He handed her his cup and thanked her for the tea, marching down the porch steps and up the street. The two watched as he let himself in and shut the door behind him.

Rachel looked back at her husband, rage in his eyes. She inhaled deeply, leading him into the house. The pleasant morning she'd had with their new neighbor would distract her from the pain she was about to encounter.

Finn peered out from behind the curtains in his own home, watching the man shove his wife into their house. He slammed his hand against the table, angry that there was nothing he could do for that poor woman.

_No_, he thought. _There is something I can do._

He swung open his door, jogging down the steps and back to Rachel's house. He knew what was going on in there, and he was going to stop it. He marched up the stairs to the front door, and pounded on it three times.

A minute passed, and he knocked again. This time, Dave answered the door. He was wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

"Help you with something?" he asked Finn, and Finn shoved the door open wider. Rachel was standing at the sink, her back to him.

"Rachel?" he called to her. She didn't turn to him; she had to keep it hidden.

"Yes?" she replied, as she stuck another dish in the rack next to the sink. She kept her focus on the dishes in front of her, tears falling silently over her already bruising face.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, this time more forcefully than his gentle prodding before.

"Okay, buddy, I think it's time for you to leave," Dave said, pushing the door closed. Finn reached out and held it open long enough to hear Rachel's reply.

"Thank you for coming over, Finn. Lovely to have met you today."

He stood outside the house while the glass shattered within, his hands covering his mouth as tears welled in his eyes.

There was nothing he could do for her, not if he wanted to forge ahead with his new life.

He couldn't do what he'd done last time. There was no more room for error.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the lovely reviews! Here's another chapter...**

* * *

Chapter Three.

Finn waited until he saw Dave load his suitcase into the trunk and pull the car away from the home in which his battered wife was probably tending to her injuries. He'd been aching to be near Rachel again, which he attributed to his guilt for letting that jerk lay his violent hand on her.

He waited a few more minutes, just to be sure, and then made his way over to Rachel's house. She must have expected him, because she met him on the porch. She wore large sunglasses and a loose scarf around her neck. Her hair fell over parts of her face as well, as if she were hiding from him.

Instincts taking over, Finn approached her, brushing the hair out of her face. He saw the dark bruises lining her cheeks before she jerked herself away from him.

"You can't be here," she whispered, glancing in the direction her husband had driven.

He was at a loss for words, not knowing how to help this girl who clearly did not want him involved.

"Listen-" he started, and she shook her head.

"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you want from me," she scoffed, looking straight at him. "I love my husband, and we may fight, but you have no right to come to my home, which I invited you into, and accuse him of whatever it is you were implying. You. Do. Not. Know. Me," she finished, jabbing her finger into his chest with each of her final words.

He looked at her, sadness in his eyes that almost made her cry. "Rachel," he said, almost pleading. He knew. Of course he knew. Everyone does, these days. No one else had the nerve to say anything, though.

"Finn," she warned, shaking her head and backing away from him. "No."

"Rachel, my stepfather beat my mother to death," he revealed, stopping her in her tracks. "I can't…" he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I know you're pissed that I accused your husband of that. But I'm no stranger to abusive homes. He probably brought you flowers the next day, and kissed your bruises, tended to your cuts. He probably promised it would never happen again, but you just made him so angry. And the next day, you made him angry again. And again. You blame yourself, but deep down you wish that not every step you take is the wrong one," he said, closing the space between them. He removed her sunglasses, revealing deep bruises and what looked like a broken nose.

"Rachel, please," he begged, staring into her eyes. He was met with resistance.

"Finn," she whispered. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

He pursed his lips, unsure of what to do. She'd probably lie if he called the cops. He waited, hoping she would change her mind. It was then he realized that she was probably the most stubborn person he'd ever met.

"Fine," he replied, turning.

"But-" she started. He turned back to her, searching her face for something. Anything. "You don't have to go," she said quietly.

The corners of his lips turned upward in the slightest of smiles, and he nodded.

"Then I won't."

* * *

"Wait, you were on Broadway?" he asked, astonished to have such a presence before him. She nodded, standing and waving for him to follow her.

She led him up the stairs and he followed her to a room at the end of a hallway, entering the now open door. His jaw dropped as he took in his surroundings.

Playbooks were neatly lined up on the table beside him. _Wicked, Rent, Spring Awakening, Les Miserables._ He thumbed through them gently, noting the roles she'd had.

His gaze met a shelf of trophies, which he presumed came from her stage days. He approached them, reading off the various awards she'd won. The Tony, though, that was impressive. He turned to back to Rachel, who was hugging herself while watching him admire her past life.

"Rachel, I had no idea," he said, the astonishment registering in his voice. "Will you sing me something?"

She laughed. Oh, what a beautiful laugh she had. He laughed with her, thinking how easy it was to talk to her, joke with her.

Suddenly more serious, she cleared her throat. "I don't do this anymore. It's not who I am anymore."

"Not who you are?" he asked, puzzled. Was talent something you could just…give up?

"I…" she sighed. "I met Dave and…well, I felt that this didn't have a place in my life anymore," she stated plainly, as though it were fact. "Dave filled what was missing on stage."

"Did he?" Finn said, a little harsher than he intended. He shook his head, offering up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, you're right. I don't know him."

He took a look around this room at the incredible accomplishments this tiny woman in front of him had achieved, and wondered for just a moment why someone would give it all up.

* * *

Finn noticed the sky darkening, so he bid adieu to his new friend and headed back to his place, the image of Broadway Rachel plaguing his thoughts.

He let himself in, throwing his keys on the table next to the door and switching on the television.

Heading into the kitchen, he swung open the fridge and pulled out a beer. Taking a swig, he listened to the news on the television in the other room.

"_Police say 48-year-old James Rubin is still missing, no sign of foul play indicated. If anyone has any information, please contact Detective Rominge at-"_

He switched the television off, taking another swig of his beer. Sure, he had information. But there was no way he was about to call this detective with it.

* * *

**Author's Note: Been a while since I've written fanfiction. Hope you're liking this so far...I realize the chapters are short but they will increase as the story progresses! Please review. xx A**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the lovely reviews!**

* * *

Chapter Four.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Finn pretended not to see the new bruises that lined Rachel's arms, and she pretended that they weren't even there. With Finn, it was easy to pretend her life was better.

She bragged about her husband's pro-football career, ending suddenly when he broke an ankle and never recovered. She told Finn about their fertility struggles, and how devastated he was that they couldn't have children for some unknown reason.

"I feel like I can tell you anything," she revealed one day, while Finn helped her weed the front garden.

He smiled at her, nodding. "You can."

Her face suddenly fell, a serious tone to her voice. "I will. Someday."

He swallowed, sitting back on his feet. Taking a minute to think about what he would say next, his eyes followed her slim body as she stood. He sighed, noticing the new marks that she had attempted to hide by wearing a longer sleeved shirt.

"Rachel-" he started, closing his mouth and pursing his lips. "I just…wish you were safe."

"I am safe, Finn. He gets angry with me for a reason. He's a good man, and I don't really deserve him."

"Rachel, do you really believe that?" he asked incredulously, standing in front of her and gripping her shoulders gently. He shook his head, gesturing to the house. "After what you showed me in that room, you expect me to buy that you, of all people, don't deserve something better?"

"Better than a man who loves me and supports me?" She refused to meet his gaze, despite his efforts to make eye contact with her. How she could believe that she was worth nothing more than this coward was beyond him.

"You should go," she whispered, glancing at her watch. "Dave will be home soon and after what you did the last time he was here…" she trailed off. Finn released his grip on her and took her hand.

"You're my only friend in the neighborhood, Rachel," he revealed. She smiled at him.

"Likewise, Finn."

* * *

Dave returned home to a perfectly groomed garden. He smiled at his wife's efforts, glad that she had finally done _something_ around this house.

Up the street, he saw that Finn Hudson was mowing his own lawn. After a beat, he decided to approach him. When Finn saw him getting closer, he shut the mower off and wiped his sweaty face with the cloth he had hanging from his pocket.

"Good look for you," Dave said, cracking a smile. Finn chuckled and wiped his hands, reaching for a water bottle on the porch. He sat back on a step, gesturing for Dave to sit as well.

"No, thanks," he responded. "I actually just had something quick to say."

"What's that?" Finn asked, taking a drink.

"I know you've been spending a lot of time with my wife, and I'd like to ask you to keep your distance."

Finn choked on the water he'd been drinking, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Excuse me?"

"It's distracting her from her…duties," Dave said simply. "And while I appreciate you allowing my wife to bore you with her stories about her glory days, she has responsibilities to fulfill. You understand, I'm sure."

Finn chewed the inside of his cheek, pondering Dave's demand. "Well, I wouldn't say she has been boring me," Finn said lightly, taking another drink. "She's done some amazing stuff."

Dave's face darkened. "Listen, I was asking you nicely. Now I'm telling you. Stay away from my wife."

Finn worried that he would make the night bad for Rachel if he had gone any further with Dave, so he nodded and Dave retreated back to his own house. Throwing the water bottle in frustration, Finn resumed his yard duties with Rachel on his mind.

* * *

"What's this?" Detective Rominge said, gesturing to a photo that had been placed on his desk while he was out. His partner glanced at it and stood.

"I found that in the house we searched. Curious, isn't it? The husband kills the wife and goes missing. Where's the boy?"

Rominge examined the picture carefully, staring at the boy between the man and woman. He was tall, extremely tall, and was the spitting image of his mother.

"Stepfather?" Rominge posited, and his partner nodded in agreement.

"Let's find the boy. See what he knows."

"Do you know who he is? Or where?"

"Finn Hudson. Not sure where, but he shouldn't be too hard to find."


	5. Chapter 5

**Just to let y'all know, I'm starting two online classes for my final semester (!) of college this coming week. I'm trying to update as much as possible before that happens, and I have a couple of chapters on reserve. I thought I'd upload another today, and probably one more over the weekend as I stock up before the classes start. SO, without further ado...**

* * *

Chapter Five.

Rachel woke the next morning in a cold sweat, the nightmare fresh in her mind. Nothing out of the ordinary, scenes from her own life were terrifying enough to dream about and classify a nightmare.

She saw that her husband was still in a deep sleep, so she slipped on her robe and padded out of the room softly, being sure not to wake him.

Once outside the bedroom, she released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It had been three whole days since he hit her, and she wanted that to last. He told her how much he loved her last night, and for the first time in a while, she really believed him.

Switching on the coffee maker, she brewed a pot of coffee and poured some into a mug, taking in the delicious silence of the early morning. She sat in the kitchen nook overlooking the neighborhood, and spotted Finn running on the street. He was drenched in sweat and Rachel watched as he rested his hands to his knees, catching his breath. The summer got very warm there, even in the wee hours of the morning.

6:00 am. He would be up soon.

Rachel was still staring as Finn looked sadly at her house, and her heart ached at the sight of his pain. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. No, she had a pretty good life, despite the tumultuous relationship she shared with her husband.

Lost in thought, she began to remember a time when it wasn't so bad.

* * *

"_Mrs. Berry-Karofsky," he'd said, wrapping his strong arms around her and lifting her in the air, kissing her softly and smiling against her lips. "I do love you so."_

_She returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you too, Mr. Berry-Karofsky."_

_He'd laughed, setting her back on the floor. "I'm going to make you the happiest woman in the world."_

_She knew he would. That's why she married him. It didn't matter that he'd ended his football career, or that she'd walked away from Broadway, because they loved each other._

_They entered their new home, embraced in each other's arms. She could see the life they would share together, and brought his hand to her lips. She softly kissed it, and when she looked at him, she smiled._

"_How many kids are we going to fill this house with?" she asked, a devilish grin on her face._

"_Hmm," he pondered. "Twelve?"_

"_Twelve!" she gasped, laughing. "I don't think twelve!"_

"_As many as you want, my love," he responded, kissing her again. When she deepened it, he pulled back slightly. He touched her belly, filled with a secret only the two of them shared._

_"You've made me the happiest man in the world," he said, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her up the stairs._

* * *

Finn stared at her house, feeling a longing that he was quite unfamiliar with. He'd liked spending time with Rachel, sure, but there was more to it than that. Shaking it off, he caught a glimpse of her in the window. Raising his hand slightly, he waved to her.

She waved back, curled up in a chair with a mug. He wished he were sitting across from her at that moment. He nodded to her and continued to jog toward his house.

Inside, she heard her husband stir. Jumping up, she began to heat the stove and prepare an omelet for him. She heard the shower start and said a silent prayer for allowing her the extra time.

By the time he walked out of the bedroom, his hot breakfast was waiting for him at the table. He greeted his wife, and kissed her cheek.

"Smells really good, but I have to run," he said, grabbing a bagel from the cupboard and picking up his bags. "I'll be gone for a week."

"I wish you would've told me," she said quietly. He'd just returned from his last business trip. In the last month, he'd been home only three or four days.

"What did you say?" he demanded, his mood dramatically changed. He stormed toward her, demanding that she answer him.

"I'm sorry, Dave, I just miss you is all," she responded, not daring to look at him.

He softened, but grabbed her wrist tightly. "I miss you, too, but don't ever talk to me that way. You know better," he warned, twisting it slightly as he leaned closer to her face. "Never again," he prodded.

She nodded in response, and repeated his words. "Never again."

* * *

He left that morning with the beautifully prepared breakfast still on the table. She started to throw it out, but at the last minute, saw Finn approaching her house. Rachel set the plate back on the table and rushed to meet Finn at the door.

"Hi there!" she said brightly, his hand mid-air, about to ring the bell. She'd clearly startled him, because he stood there frozen for a moment.

"Hi, Rach," he said, smiling back at her. "What are you up to today?"

"Groceries," she responded, rolling her eyes. "Just for me, though. Dave will be gone for the week."

"Great," he responded, perking up. "Not that Dave's gone, but…I need groceries too. And also that Dave will be gone."

She looked at him, puzzled, and he filled her in on the conversation he'd had with her husband.

"Finn, I had no idea," she said, apologizing for how rude her husband had been to him. "Well, obviously, you aren't going to stay away from me," she finished, waving her hand.

He tried to hide the big smile that threatened to escape him, and managed to smirk ever so slightly at her. "Right," he responded.

"Breakfast?" she offered, gesturing to the meal on the table. He looked at it hungrily, nodding at her.

"Don't mind if I do."

* * *

"You never answered my question," Finn said suddenly, his mouth filled with food. Rachel looked at him over the lip of her coffee, a puzzled expression on her face.

"What question is that?"

"How long have you been married?"

Rachel struggled to remember him ever asking that question. Oh, the very first day.

"Five years," she finally responded, feeling surprised it had actually been that long.

He looked impressed, and she wasn't sure if it was that she'd been married so young, or that they'd lasted so long.

She was silent, contemplating telling him about all the times she'd planned to leave him that left her broken and bloody. Shaking her head, she met his gaze again and realized he'd been staring at her.

"What is it?" she asked, bringing a hand to her face.

"Nothing," he replied, looking back at his plate, a slight blush lining his cheeks. He couldn't tell her how beautiful he thought she was.

She bit her lip, also breaking her gaze from him and enjoying the comfortable silence. That's probably what she liked most about him. She was comfortable around him, even in the tensest of situations. Guilt washed over her as she silently scolded herself for comparing her husband to Finn.

His fork clattering on the plate, he leaned back and stretched. "That was so good, Rach," he smiled as he rubbed his belly. "You gotta cook for me more often."

A sad smile appeared on her face as she remembered the threatening conversation her husband had with her the night before, warning her to keep her distance from Finn. Well aware of the consequences, she leaned further toward him.

"Anytime."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for the lovely responses! My updates are going to be a bit further apart now that my classes have started, but I'll shoot for 2 a week! Reviews are great, as always... xx A. :)**

* * *

Chapter Six.

At the grocery store later that day, Finn pushed his cart next to Rachel's. It wasn't too busy, thankfully, since he was aware of her husband's demands and even more aware of the neighborhood's allegiance to him.

"Turkey bacon? That's what you fed me?" Finn pretended to gag, reaching for pig bacon. "Now this- this is real bacon."

"Real bacon?" Rachel laughed. "Enjoy your heart attack at 30."

"How old do you think I am?" he suddenly asked, a quizzical look on his face. The smile faded from her face and she squinted.

The smile reappeared as she said, "I shouldn't have said 30. You're clearly much older than that."

Finn feigned offense, grabbing his chest in pretend shock. "No way!" he said, touching a hand to the corners of his eyes. "Wrinkles?" He touched his hair, leaning in close to whisper, "Grays?"

The look on his face was all it took for Rachel to burst into laughter. She shoved him back from her, dismissing the joke with a wave of her hand. "How old are you, Finn Hudson?" she asked.

He paused, and then said, "26."

Her mouth dropped, pointing to her chest. "Me too!" she said, and he laughed at her excitement.

_She doesn't look 26_, he thought. _Especially since she had the height of an eight year old._

He must have voiced his thoughts unknowingly, because she playfully smacked him. "I may be short," she said, "but I pack a punch."

Finn grew quiet at the thought of his friend being at the opposite end of that punch. She realized the tension in the air, and cleared her throat.

"What else did you need, Frankenstein?" she asked, smiling again.

He smirked at her, rolling his eyes at the nickname that had plagued him since his growth spurt in the 8th grade.

"Umm…well if I'm cooking you dinner tonight, and you eat things like _turkey bacon_," he gestured to the package in her cart, "then I better let you decide."

"You're cooking me dinner?" she asked meekly, looking up at him.

He shrugged in response. "Sure."

"Why?"

"Because I have no one else to cook for, and I'm sick of TV dinners."

She smiled behind the sheath of her hair that hid her face from him as they walked up the next aisle together.

* * *

Rachel laughed loudly at her dinner company, and he laughed at her laugh. It was nice to spend time with someone so pleasant for a change, instead of the normal quiet dinner she had with her husband, in which she was afraid to chew too loudly.

"I swear, you're trying to turn me into a squirrel," he said jokingly as he shoved another forkful of kale into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, shaking his head. "Maybe TV dinners aren't so bad after all."

Her jaw dropped, and then she scowled playfully. "Fine, more for me," she responded. "We don't have TV dinners here though."

"I don't want to leave," he pouted, and she smiled.

"There's macaroni and cheese in the pantry," she rolled her eyes, lifting herself from her chair. He shook his head, jumping to his feet and gesturing for her to sit.

"I got it," he said. "No worries. Want some?"

"Were you planning on finishing the box by yourself?" she countered, and he froze.

"Well, yeah."

She laughed again as he filled a pan with water and tore open the box.

"Milk," he said, looking at Rachel questioningly.

"I hope you like Rice Dream," she teased, standing and walking to the fridge.

* * *

The phone rang, jolting Rachel from her daydream. She dried her hands on the dishtowel next to the sink and flipped it open mindlessly, pulling it up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Rachel," the voice was curt and cold, and she stood straight up at the sound of it.

"Hi, honey," she responded, trying to sound cheery to alleviate the clear anger he was radiating.

"You're lucky I'm stuck here," he seethed, and she closed her eyes as she pictured the slap he'd have given her if he were here.

"What do you mean?" she said innocently, leaning on the counter with her back to Finn.

"Did you run into anyone at the grocery store?" he asked, baiting her. She knew better than to lie to him.

"Yes, I did. I ran into Finn, from up the street."

She felt Finn's hands on her shoulders, and she raised her free hand to touch one of his. Her eyes closed, she listened to him berate her before hanging up.

She set the phone down, tears welling in her eyes. She turned into Finn and he enveloped her in his arms, allowing her to sob into his chest. Not like it was the first time, after all.

After a few minutes, she sniffled and pulled herself away from him. "You okay?" he asked, his face unable to hide the terror he felt for her.

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm fine. He's angry."

"You knew you were supposed to avoid me," he said as the realization dawned on him.

She nodded again, stepping toward him. Neither of them moved for a moment, as she put her tiny hands on his shoulders and inhaled his scent.

"Why didn't you listen?" he whispered quietly, his eyes sad.

"I didn't want to," she said simply as her lips crashed into his.

* * *

**A/N: Uh ohhhh. :) Reviews are lovely! x A**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys...I love reading your reviews! While I don't wait for a certain number of views or reviews to update, it's really nice hearing what y'all think, so please consider leaving some feedback! Thank you to everyone who has - I reallllllyyyyy appreciate it! Here's another chapter. :) A**

* * *

Chapter Seven.

"Rachel," Finn whispered, his eyes still closed. He rested his forehead on Rachel's, listening to her ragged breaths. Almost immediately, he recovered and pushed her away from him.

She looked at him, confused. She thought they were on the same page.

He wiped her kiss from his lips, running a hand over his short hair and rubbing the back of his neck as he pondered where to go from here.

"You're married," he stated bluntly, gesturing toward her with a hand that he then brought to his forehead in frustration. "You're married to someone who _will_ kill me if he finds out what just happened."

"So he won't find out," Rachel shrugged, wrapping her cardigan tightly around her and crossing her arms. "Why would he have to know?"

"Rachel! You're _married_," Finn exploded. She grimaced noticeably and he sighed, holding out his arms for her. She gladly entered his embrace, smiling slightly when he rested his chin on her head.

A knock at the door pulled them both out of their trance.

"_Fuck_," Finn yelped, instantly separating from her. She bit her lip, feeling the loss of his warm embrace.

Walking to the door, she peeked out the curtain before opening it. "Kurt!" she exclaimed, swinging the door open and wrapping her arms around him. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my favorite lady, of course," he said in a high-pitched voice. Finn stood awkwardly behind the wall of the kitchen, waiting to be introduced.

Rachel grabbed Kurt's hand and led him to the kitchen, his bags forgotten on the front porch.

"Kurt, this is Finn Hudson," she said, gesturing toward a now blushing Finn. Finn shook his hand and nodded slightly, looking at Rachel for a further introduction.

She obliged, with a quick explanation of their time in high school together, which evolved into a roommate situation while Rachel was on Broadway.

"It's been years!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him again.

He hugged her back, eyeing Finn secretly as he tried to look anywhere but at the hugging friends.

"Cute," he whispered into her ear as they embraced.

"Straight," Rachel whispered, more defensively than she probably should have. Kurt shot her a funny look when they pulled away and she mouthed to him. _Later_.

"We just finished dinner," Finn said, trying to include himself in their exchange. They both looked up at him at the same time, and he pursed his lips. "So…I better go."

Rachel gave him a quick squeeze by the door, and he promised they'd talk soon.

* * *

"You kissed him?" Rachel didn't know Kurt's jaw could drop that low. She nodded, avoiding his gaze and staring at her hands.

"I just…he's become a really good friend," she responded, now regretting the strain she had put on their friendship. She buried her face in her hands and groaned. "What have I done?"

Kurt cleared his throat, wondering how to put it nicely. "What is Dave going to do?"

Rachel shot up quickly, causing Kurt to lean back on the couch for fear of being hit. "He can't find out, Kurt. Not ever."

"Jeez, fine," Kurt said, widening his eyes. He set his cup down on the table and leaned back on the couch. "So show me to my room."

"Oh, no. You can't stay here," she said. He began to speak and she put a hand up to cut him off. "Dave came home a few weeks ago and Finn was here. If he comes home and there's another guy, no. Sorry, Kurt."

"Rachel, I know we've known each other for a really long time, so what I'm about to tell you probably shouldn't come as a surprise to you. I am actually gay, so…I promise I won't make a move on you," he laughed.

"It's not that, Kurt. Dave is feeling really rough lately, and I'm afraid he would be threatened if I had a visitor. Isn't there somewhere else you can stay?"

"Well, I'd planned on staying with you. I don't have any other arrangements."

"What about Finn?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Kurt and Rachel trudged up the stairs and knocked on Finn's front door. He answered the door in pajamas, topless, and Rachel's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"Uh…" Finn said awkwardly, suddenly wishing he were wearing a parka.

Kurt looked from a speechless Rachel to an embarrassed Finn, and rolled his eyes. "I need a place to stay. Is it okay if I crash here with you tonight and find another arrangement tomorrow?"

Rachel was grateful when he obliged, carrying his suitcases into his house. Not only would her best friend be a house away, but she had a reason to spend more time with Finn, as well.

She said goodnight to the boys and made her way back to her own house, hugging herself for the idea.

* * *

Finn collapsed on the couch next to Kurt, passing him a beer and taking a swig of his own.

"So, tell me about high school Rachel Berry," he prodded, and Kurt chuckled in response.

"You'll have to ask her," he shrugged.

"She'll just tell me about the glee coach that was sabotaging her and the jocks that threw slushies in her face again," he pleaded. "Tell me what she was really like."

Kurt sighed, pressing the beer to his lips. After a long drink, he sighed again. "Rachel was so…vibrant. She had tunnel vision, of course, but that's what made her so unique. And for the record, any time our glee club moderator attempted to share the solos, Rachel accused him of stealing her thunder." He shook his head. "If you'd have told me then she'd end up with Karofsky, I'd have laughed in your face."

"What do you mean?" Finn pressed.

"Karofsky was one of the thugs that picked on Rachel most," he replied, giving Finn a puzzling look. "She didn't tell you?"

"No," he said quietly. He wondered if Kurt knew Karofsky went from slinging slushies to throwing punches.

"She may have been really intense, but that's why Rachel ended up being a star. She had what it took. Talent, drive, determination. She really had it all," Kurt took another drink.

"Had?" Finn explored more, wondering the same thing himself.

"Karofsky had some kind of spell over her. She up and left Broadway, and that pretty much ensured she'd be blacklisted from any kind of career in the future."

Finn pondered Kurt's revelation as he peeled the label off his beer. Kurt broke his concentration with a question Finn dreaded answering.

"Tell me more about you, mystery Hudson."


	8. Chapter 8

**Short update...but school is really beginning to crack down so I wanted to get this out there for you! I've had such a lovely response and I appreciate it so much! xx A :)**

* * *

Chapter Eight.

Detective Rominge didn't want to put Finn's face on the news just yet. He didn't want to spook the kid, but he did wonder what kind of answers Finn could fill in for him. He stared at the family photo, considering all the possible outcomes of getting to question this kid.

Did he kill his stepfather? There was no doubt the stepfather had killed the mother. She had reported him so many times for abuse, but there was nothing anyone could do when she kept going back to him.

Did his stepfather kidnap him? That was also a possibility. Somewhat unlikely, though, seeing as this kid had a good foot on the stepfather.

Rominge stroked the stubble on his chin as he searched for any kind of clue in Carol Hudson's file. He needed Finn to fill in these blanks.

The problem was, Finn was nowhere to be found. After his mother's funeral, the kid dropped off the face of the Earth. He left work without notice, and his friends stopped hearing from him at exactly the same time.

Puzzling as it was, he had to get to the bottom of it. He wouldn't put his face on the news, no, not yet. He didn't want to deal with him running, not if he already was on the run. He had to track him down himself.

The detective slammed his hand on his desk, startling the woman mopping the floor in the other corner of the room. He shook his head at her, allowing her to resume her work.

This would be one of those cases. One of those cases where someone you didn't want to be guilty was, and you'd have to arrest someone you really didn't want to have to put away for life.

He collapsed in his chair, burying his head in his hands. It didn't matter how he felt personally about this case. Sure, he'd seen the woman come to the police station covered in bruises, only to take her statements back after some sweet talk from her husband. He'd read the hospital reports, and heard the slamming of the front door when he'd tried to persuade her to press charges.

He stood again, hands in his pockets and turning his face upwards. Closing his eyes, he knew in that moment what he would have to do.

He left a copy of the file and a scribbled note on the captain's desk, letting him know he was going to be out on this case for a while. With that, he gathered all the information he had on the Hudsons and left the squad room.

* * *

Rachel had just finished waxing the floor in a tank top and shorts when Kurt came bustling into the house without knocking. Alarmed, she dashed for the stairs, but the look on Kurt's face let her know that her efforts were useless.

"What the _hell_, Rachel?" Kurt exclaimed as he got closer, seeing the bruises that were prominently displayed against her soft skin. "What happened to you?"

She put on the happy face she'd been trained to wear and waved her hand, dismissing his worry. "Stairs," she said simply. "Remind me not to wear slippers on these damned stairs."

"Oh, God, Rachel, be more careful!" he scolded her, and she let out a breath she'd been holding. She wrapped herself in the cozy sweater she'd thrown over the banister and noticed Finn standing by the door, obviously considering a quick departure.

"You!" she said quietly, descending the stairs and rushing toward him. "You could've told me you guys were coming over."

"I, um…didn't know you'd be dressed like…that," he struggled to find the words, clearing his throat more than once and refusing to look straight at Rachel.

"Finn," she said, commanding his attention. He felt heat surge through him when she said his name that way. "We should probably talk about what happened."

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about the whole ordeal. "Maybe, but I don't mind putting it behind us."

He could've sworn he saw a flash of hurt on her face before the thousand-watt smile reappeared. "That would probably be best, actually," she agreed.

She turned away from him long enough to will the tears back into her eyes, and then faced the boys in her home. "What are we doing today?"

Kurt jumped at the chance to have Rachel to himself, and she saw disappointment cloud Finn's face as he agreed. But, she hadn't seen Kurt much since she married Dave, and she missed him like crazy. Besides, Finn lived down the street. She could see him anytime.

Finn descended the porch stairs and walked back to his own house, grabbing the mail before going inside. As he flipped through the envelopes, he was surprised to see one from Dave.

_Stay away from my wife_, it read. _I'm not going to warn you again._

Finn wasn't afraid of Dave Karofsky. He scoffed at the lame attempt to threaten him as he threw the letter in the trash. Then, he thought of Rachel. Her sweet lips on his, and how in that moment he never wanted to _stop _kissing her. She was someone else's wife, though, and Finn knew he couldn't get too close to anyone around here. This was his fresh start, and if she knew, Rachel would never see past it...

He rubbed his face with his hands. He really needed to figure this out before his crush developed into something more – something worse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Little bit of a warning for this one. ;) A.**

* * *

Chapter Nine.

Finn rubbed his eyes. _What time is it?_ he wondered, sitting up and taking in his surroundings. Rachel's living room.

"What?" he wondered out loud, just as Rachel appeared from the kitchen.

"Good morning," she said quietly, placing a glass of water on the table in front of him and holding out two aspirin in her tiny palm. He took them and guzzled the water quickly, sighing once it was finished.

"What?" he said again, and she laughed, clamping her hand over her mouth when she saw the wince Finn gave her.

"I'm sorry," she said quieter, still stifling a giggle. "You got really drunk last night."

Finn tried his hardest to remember, and then suddenly, it all came back to him. "Karaoke," he said, groaning and shielding his eyes with his elbow. He heard her soft giggle and shot her a look.

"You were great," she said, shrugging. "If that helps any."

It came in flashes, but he remembered bits and pieces of a…what? "Dance routine?"

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at his incomplete sentences, and the memory of him and Kurt prancing around on stage at the bar last night.

He winced again, burying his face in her pillow. Mmm…that smell. Lavender?

* * *

Later that day, after he'd showered and took more aspirin, he jogged down the steps of his house and stopped in his tracks. Dave was home. Finn gave him a slight wave as Dave approached his car, opening the door to get in.

As Dave drove away, he saw her in the window. Rachel looked like a shell of the vibrant woman he'd spent the last week with, and it pained him to see her that way. He wanted to rush to her side, hold her, kiss her. He thought better of it, though, remembering Dave's hostile warning. He didn't want to make her life worse than it was.

He thought of his mom, on the last day they spent together as he stepped back into his house. She'd told him it was okay, everything was fine, and he didn't need to worry about her. He'd been so swept up in his own life that he didn't notice the new bruises that lined her neck, or how odd it had been that she was wearing long sleeves in the summer.

"_Finn," she'd said, placing her hand on his forearm. "We're happy. I promise."_

_He shrugged, not believing her but not wanting to push it._

He wished now that he had pushed it further. He knew something was wrong, and if only he'd been more persistent...

"_What did you do?" he screamed, cradling his mother's lifeless body in his arms. His stepfather stood before him, visibly shaken. "What did you do?" he screamed again._

His poor mother, whom he'd loved more than anyone in the world. He should've protected her. The sound of shattering glass broke his trance, and he realized he'd turned over his end table. Cursing under his breath, he began to pick up the pieces.

"Finn?" he heard from the doorway, and he turned.

Rachel was standing there, a concerned look plastered on her face. She rushed to his side when she saw the tears in his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder and tears threatening to rim her eyes as well.

He didn't say anything as she held him, crying. He collapsed back on the ground, allowing her to take him in her arms, and she soothed him as he cried.

* * *

"I had no idea. I mean, you told me, but…"

"It's okay," he said, silencing her.

She didn't know what else to say, but the way they were sitting was making her uncomfortable. He was a foot taller than her, yet somehow had managed to curl up in her arms. She was hunched over him, cradling him as best she could.

"Finn-" she started, and he shifted. She moved also, and they separated, allowing her to see the agony still present on his face. She regretted moving away from him.

He stood, pulling her to her feet until they were dangerously close. He could taste her on his lips, and he felt himself getting hard.

She felt it too, and moved backwards slightly. Embarrassed, he began to apologize, but he was cut short by her mouth on his. His pants grew tighter and he felt her smirk against his lips, making him groan.

She deepened the kiss, moaning slightly as their tongues entwined. She loved the way he tasted, and nothing felt more right than what they were doing at the moment.

Finn's eyes shot open and he pulled away quickly. They couldn't do this.

"Fuck," he grimaced, his erection obvious. His eyes met Rachel's and he could see the confusion in them. Hell, he was confused, too.

"What is it?" asked Rachel.

"Rachel, we can't do this. You're married. He'll kill you."

"He doesn't have to know. Finn, I want to be with you. I want you."

Her words struck him to his very core, and for a fleeting moment he considered what it would be like to intimate with Rachel, skin on skin, making love to her.

"We can't, Rachel. I'm sorry," he said sadly, the regret obvious in his voice.

She nodded. Of course she understood. "You don't want me."

Finn's eyes widened and he shook his head as he grabbed her by the shoulders. The sudden movement frightened her and she cowered instinctively, shocking him. He pulled her into him and held her tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. If only she knew how much he didn't want to let her go.

"That's not true, Rachel. I do want you."

"Then take me," she responded, lifting her head and kissing him again.


	10. Chapter 10

**How about another update? Aren't I the best? :)**

**You're gonna need a warning for this one - mature content. ;) A**

* * *

Chapter Ten.

He legitimately couldn't believe he was here. She was in his arms, kissing him. He was kissing Rachel.

She pulled away and licked her lips, her fingers lightly rubbing the hem of her shirt. In one fluid motion, she had the shirt over her head and stood before him, waiting for him to reciprocate. He kissed her again as he unbuttoned her pants, pushing them down as she stepped out of them. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it off over his head, once again meeting his lips for a passionate kiss.

Her head was in the clouds. This was a man who made her feel desirable, wanted, loved, protected. He wouldn't hurt her, not in a million years. She hadn't known him long, but she could tell. He was one of the good ones.

He pulled away from her, hands on his head. "This is crazy," he said, and she bit her lip at how his boxers formed around his erection. She made him that way. Her eyes met his again as he rushed toward her, kissing her roughly and unhooking her bra.

"Upstairs?" she asked and he nodded, hooking her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the stairs.

He placed her down on the bed, hovering over her. He planted kisses on her neck, chest, and down her stomach. As he peeled off her panties, he took one of her nipples in his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. She moaned at his touch, and he repeated his movements on her other breast as his fingers lightly caressed her folds.

"Finn," she moaned, arching her back into his touch. He kissed her lightly, using his tongue to trail his way slowly to her stomach. Finn placed his head between her legs and felt himself get even harder, if it was even possible, when he inhaled her scent. Eyes locked with hers, he placed his mouth on her and relished her moans as he licked her nub. He pressed a finger gingerly inside her, and she raised her hips against him in response.

"Nuh-uh, eyes on me," he said with a smirk as she threw her head back in lust. She bit her lip and watched as he worked her, running her fingers into his hair and pulling slightly. He quickened, her body tightening around him as he added a finger.

"God, Finn," she cried, throwing herself back onto the bed and gripping the sheets. She came hard, one hand thrust in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder, his tongue still moving expertly within her folds.

She grasped his shoulders, pulling him up toward her. Rolling them over, she straddled him and began to tease him through his boxers. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, whispering, "Fuck," as she removed his underwear and he felt her warm breath on him.

She took him into her mouth, sucking lightly and moving her head. He thrust slightly, careful not to overwhelm her with his passions. "Fuck, Rachel, you're so hot."

He felt her smile as she continued to bob, flicking the tip of his penis with her tongue. He groaned and pulled her up so her face was parallel to his. She looked concerned.

"Was I doing something wrong?" she whispered, her brow furrowed.

"No, God. If you kept doing_ that_," he responded, "we wouldn't have gotten any further."

She smirked, kissing him again. "Do you have a condom?"

He nodded, gesturing to the bedside table. She leaned over as his hand met her center again, and opened the drawer. She ripped a condom from the sleeve and tore the package open, rolling it down his shaft. His hips bucked at her touch, and she grinned.

"Ready?" he asked as she straddled him again and lined his hard cock with her entrance. She nodded, unable to form the words she wanted so badly to say. She eased onto him, savoring the fullness he provided her.

He groaned, her tightness squeezing him pleasurably. "Rachel," he moaned, gripping her hips. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded, moving slightly upwards and dropping down onto him again. The pleasure rippled through both of their bodies as they began moving in tandem.

He was having sex with Rachel.

"Oh, _Finn_," she cried, his hands finding her erect nipples and plucking them slightly. He leaned up to take one in his mouth as she moved fluidly onto him.

"God, Rach," he moaned, feeling close to his breaking point. He had to make sure she came first.

His free hand found its way to her clit, stroking it quickly as he continued to suck on her breast. He felt her tightening, and then found his release just as she had hers. He fell backward on the bed, easing out of Rachel and pulling her to his chest.

* * *

He must've fallen asleep. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was nearly six. Where was Rachel?

Sitting up, he was met with the sight of Rachel's bare back, her fit behind in a pair of delicious panties. How had he not noticed how sexy those panties were? The bruises that framed her were hard to miss. Every bruise, old and new. Every scar.

"Hey," he said quietly, taking in her beautiful essence. She turned around, exposing her breasts to him. She smirked, covering herself with her bra and leaning on the bed to plant a kiss on his lips. He tried to deepen it but she pulled away.

"I have to get home," she responded, dressing quickly. He was sad to see her go, but of course, she understood.

"Thank you for…that," he said, clearing his throat and finding his boxers, pulling them up around him.

"Oh, no," she responded, leaning into him and plunging her tongue into his mouth. When she pulled away, she finished, "thank _you_."

He dressed as well, walking her to the front door. Planting a quick kiss on her cheek before opening the door, he watched as she sauntered back to her house, a noticeable hesitation in her step. She turned her head slightly, taking a last peek at his house before entering her own.

_Oh, Rachel_, he thought. _What I wouldn't give to make sure you never go back there again._

Finn turned his back to the window and frowned as he took in his now-empty house.

"I really need a dog."

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who has left a review, favorited and/or followed! I appreciate you ALL. xo A**


	11. Chapter 11

**I thought I'd throw you an update before my birthday weekend begins! Thanks for all your feedback so far! 3**

* * *

Chapter Eleven.

Three weeks had passed since he'd gotten to hold her the way he wanted to since the first time they met. That afternoon, they were lying in bed, naked; Finn's chin resting gently on Rachel's stomach. His eyes traced the bruises that lined her perfect body. He kissed every mark, every scar, every bump and bruise. He wanted to make her all better, to take all of her pain away.

"Hey," she said softly, placing her hands on either side of his head and looking into his eyes. They lay that way for a moment, until he broke eye contact, kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, exhaling as their lips moved together.

Finn pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. "I love you."

He regretted the words as soon as he'd said them. Not that he didn't love her, but he knew that he couldn't. She wasn't his to love. Also, the stillness he felt beneath him as she froze couldn't have been a good response.

Finally, she spoke. "Finn-"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Reflex. Forget I said it."

"Oh," she responded, nodding. "Okay."

She couldn't hide the disappointment on her face that she hadn't gotten to respond the way she had immediately wanted. She shook away the feeling quickly. She was married. What she had with Finn was temporary.

Right?

* * *

Her phone jolted her awake, the sky dark. She jumped out of bed.

"Oh, no," she groaned, throwing her clothes on and running to the window, peeking out to her house across the street. Finn sat upright, rubbing his tired eyes. He, too, rushed out of bed when he saw the moonlight flooding his room. How could they have fallen asleep?

She turned around, shaking her head. "He's not home," she whispered. Finn visibly relaxed, collapsing back on the bed. "I should still go."

"Okay," he said, not wanting her to but knowing that she would have to get home before he did. "Rachel, wait."

She paused in the doorway, turning back toward Finn, who was walking toward her. He approached her quickly, standing right in front of her and looking her straight in the eyes.

"Rachel, what is this?" he asked, suddenly desiring a label. It's funny, because Finn was always one to run when any type of commitment was involved. Yet, with Rachel, _married _Rachel, it is all he wants.

"Finn, it's complicated," she responded, looking away from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to be with me? Like actually _be_ with me?" he asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he needed her to realize it, too.

Her silence weakened his confidence, and he placed a gentle finger under her chin to lift her face to his. "Don't you?"

She pulled away, tears rimming her beautiful eyes. "Finn, I'm married. I can't just leave because we slept together."

Her words struck him as if she'd slapped him across the face. "I thought we shared more than a bed," he said bitterly, and she began to descend the stairs.

"I can't do this, Finn. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"So what, you just want to keep sleeping together? Cheating on your husband?"

She turned back, storming up to him until she could feel his breath on her cheek. She pointed a finger to his chest, rage visible on her face.

"You don't know a _thing_ about my marriage. You walk around with this high and mighty attitude about Dave, pretending that you know what my life is like. I love him, Finn. I won't leave him because you say the right things and hold me after we fuck. He is my _husband_, damn it. I won't leave him. I won't."

With that, she turned and walked through the door, leaving Finn standing in the foyer, his heart shattered.

* * *

Two weeks passed, and Kurt finally returned to pick up his things.

"Where have you been?" Finn asked, genuinely curious about the whereabouts of his houseguest. Kurt's palpable joy was annoying.

"I met someone, and I've been staying at his," Kurt said simply.

"Where are you going now? You don't have to leave, man. It's been nice to have someone around."

"You mean, besides Rachel?" Kurt said, a grin on his face. "For the record, I didn't like Dave."

"Watch it," Finn said, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice with complacence. "She's not leaving him. It's over for us."

"What?" Kurt asked. "I thought you two were…"

"We were," Finn cut him off. "We're not."

"Oh," Kurt responded, knowing when to drop it. He absolutely _had _to talk to Rachel.

"So tell me about your new man," Finn prodded, eager to change the subject. Kurt smiled again, and Finn couldn't help but grin.

"His name is Blaine, and that's all I'm saying."

"All you're saying, or all you know?" Finn teased, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Okay, shut up."

* * *

He loaded his suitcase into his car, bidding adieu to Finn. After Finn disappeared back inside, he hightailed it over to Rachel's. He'd seen less of her than he wanted, and he was determined to get at least a little alone time with her. Especially now.

He skipped up the steps and knocked gleefully on the front door, rocking back and forth on his feet until the door opened. He froze, his jaw dropping at the sight of his best friend with a black eye.

"Rachel, what the _fuck_?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Little bit of a warning to this one...**

* * *

Chapter Twelve.

"You knew about this and you didn't say anything? Jesus, Finn!" Kurt raged, pacing in Finn's living room. His arms were folded and he had a troubled look on his face, while Finn sat on the couch, clearly ashamed. What could he do? Rachel wouldn't leave Dave, not for him, so as far as he could tell, that was it. She was going to stay.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I should have said something. But I tried talking to her and she wouldn't listen to me."

"But she would have listened to _me,_" Kurt responded, and Finn nodded. She probably would have. "What if he's hurting her right now?"

The men looked through the window that faced Rachel's house. Her curtains were drawn, making it impossible for them to see what was happening in that moment. Finn sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"Listen, Finn, you haven't known Rachel long…" Kurt started, "but she needs someone to depend on. It's why she married Dave. She was in New York, and he was her knight in shining armor. I thought he was a good guy. Why else would she leave her dream for this?"

Finn bit his lip, remembering the pride in Rachel's eyes when she showed him her special room. "I know. What can we do?" he asked quietly, and Kurt turned to him.

"We have to convince her."

* * *

Detective Rominge sat outside the diner where Finn Hudson had used his credit card last. It'd been a while since he used it, but he was hoping to get a little lead from one of the waitresses.

He walked inside, being sure to tuck his badge inside his jacket. He didn't want to pull the detective card, not just yet. He couldn't risk tipping him off.

"Good morning," said a waitress with a bright smile on her face. "Sit anywhere you like. Coffee?"

He smiled back and nodded, choosing a booth by the window. She came and filled a mug for him, setting cream and sugars on the table. "What can I get you, love?"

"I'll need a menu," he said, taking one from her and flipping through it. She stood there while he browsed it, leading him to notice that the diner was nearly empty. "Not very busy this morning?"

She sighed, tucking the pad and pencil back in her apron. "We haven't been busy in the last year. It's just been a slow time."

Perfect.

He held up the picture of Finn and his family, pointing to him. "Has he been in here lately?"

"Oh, yes!" she responded. "Such a sweetheart. He came in a while back now, left a great tip. Is he okay?"

He ignored her last question, tucking the picture back into his pocket. She caught a glimpse of the badge in his jacket, suddenly aware of who he was. "Did he say where he was headed?"

She thought for a moment, then held a finger up and nodded. "He might have…"

"What did he say?"

She studied the detective, unsure of what she should tell him. "I can't remember …he was headed somewhere nearby," she said instead, feeling protective of Finn.

"Thanks," he said, dropping a few dollars on the table and scooting out of the booth, leaving quickly.

She watched him as he pulled out of the lot, and then took out her cell phone.

"Finn? It's Lisa. There was a detective here looking for you."

* * *

Finn set the phone back in the cradle, turning around to find Kurt standing there.

"Who was that?"

Finn looked back at the phone and shrugged. "An old friend. I didn't exactly say goodbye when I left."

"Oh, right, the mysterious Finn Hudson up and runs away one day," Kurt laughed, studying him.

Finn chuckled nervously, desperate to escape Kurt's questionable stare.

"Finn," Kurt started. "Rachel is my best friend. We may not have seen much of each other and I might not have been around as much as I should have, but I'm rooting for you and her. Especially now. Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

Finn debated for a moment if he should tell Kurt the truth. No. He would hold it against him, and anything possible with Rachel would be ruined.

"No. What are you talking about?" Finn said defensively. "What do you mean, am I hiding something?"

"Are you?" he retorted, and Finn threw up his hands in mock offense.

"Listen, Kurt, Rachel's been really close to me, too. I let you stay here out of the kindness of my heart, for as long as you want to. But I wouldn't hurt her, ever. So quit the dramatics."

* * *

Dave rolled off of Rachel, sighing, and grabbed a cigarette. Lighting it, he stroked Rachel's arm lightly as he caught his breath. She curled herself up with the sheet, dying to escape his cold touch. It was nothing like Finn's loving embrace; Dave's was more obligatory and unwelcoming.

"What?" he sneered, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. "Not good for you?"

She shook her head. "I'm just tired, Dave."

"Tired?" he asked, grinning proudly, and she nodded. "Sorry about that."

She rolled over to face the wall without saying a word, and could not control the tears that filled her eyes.

Dave didn't miss a beat. "What?" he demanded, forcing her to roll onto her back and pinning her to the bed. She burst into tears, and his anger was palpable. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Rachel sobbed, trying to pull herself out of his grasp. He became angrier as she pushed against him, and before she knew it, his cigarette was on her arm.

Rachel cried out, the cigarette burning against her. She lashed against him, trying to escape his grasp. He held her harder, burning her again. She was sobbing now, still pushing against him. "Dave, stop!" she cried, and he lifted her off the bed by her wrists, dropping the cigarette to the floor and putting it out with his foot. He pushed her toward the front door, slamming her against the wall and holding his hand to her throat.

"Stupid bitch," he said as she gasped for air, his face centimeters from hers. "Stupid fucking _bitch_."

With that, he opened the door and shoved Rachel out, dressed only in his t-shirt. She continued to silently sob, turning to sit on the steps of her porch, when she came face to face with Finn.


	13. Chapter 13

**I hear you on the longer chapters so I've done some revision and combined a couple chapters to make just one...though the downside is that with school and FT work starting soon, I might not be able to update very often at all. I will try my best to get 1-2 chapters out a week still. **

**I appreciate all the lovely feedback I've been getting - you're all so great! x A**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen.

"What are you doing here?" she sniffled, and he looked nervously at the house. Dave had disappeared back inside, no sound coming from within. He turned back to Rachel, assessing her appearance in only a shirt. Not even shoes.

"I heard you," he responded simply, wondering if they were even on speaking terms. Her dismal appearance caused him to purse his lips. How much more would she take before she realized? "I was worried. Come on."

He held his arm out, guiding her away from the house. She was curled up into herself, tears pouring from her eyes. She sniffled a bit, leaning close to him.

She sobbed quietly as he led her back to his house, Kurt greeting her at the door. "Oh, Rachel," he said, enveloping her in a hug. Finn glanced back at Rachel's house, now dark, and shook his head.

"Bastard," he muttered under his breath. How could he sleep peacefully after what he'd just done? Rachel was literally half his size. And a woman. What kind of man hits a woman? _Not much of one_, he thought.

"Finn?" Kurt interrupted his thoughts. "Should we go to the hospital?"

Finn assessed Rachel, who was shaking her head. She held her arm close to her, hiding something from them. Bruises were beginning to form on her neck, handprints obvious. "No. No way."

"Rachel-" Kurt started, and she held up a hand, silencing him.

"No."

Kurt looked helplessly at Finn, who shrugged in response. He glared at Finn, gesturing for him to do something. Sighing, he sat down next to Rachel and Kurt got up. "I'm going to make you some tea."

"I'm tired, Kurt," she said in response, scooting away from Finn and avoiding his stare. She brought her knees to her chest, still holding her arm close to her chest.

"Rachel," Finn finally spoke up, and Rachel froze when he touched her hand. "Let me see."

Rachel looked over at Kurt, shame in her eyes. Kurt took the hint and disappeared into the kitchen. Finn turned the arm Rachel cradled closely to her chest, revealing the burns that lined her arm. Three, in all. He inhaled sharply, desperate to keep his cool. She ripped her arm from his grasp, again cradling it to her chest.

Finn wrapped his arms around her and she collapsed into him, holding herself as silent tears fell from her eyes.

"Rachel, if you don't go, it could scar."

"Please, Finn," she whispered. He nodded, pulling her closer to him and holding her there until her breathing evened out, and she was asleep.

* * *

He glared out the window as his wife went into Finn's house. HIS wife. In that man's house. He'd warned the both of them, and now there would be hell to pay. Rachel was his, damn it. He saw Finn shoot a look back at the house before going inside. That fuck thinks he'll steal his wife, he's got another thing coming.

He booted up his laptop and entered Finn's name into his search engine. Normal stuff, quarterback in high school, autobody shop after school, blah blah blah. _Pretty girlfriend in high school_, he noted. He'd have to look her up later.

Then he saw it.

Carole Hudson Murder – Investigation Ongoing.

_Murder?_ He wondered, his thoughts turning briefly to Rachel.

He quickly opened the link to discover that Carole had been murdered by her husband, Finn's stepfather. A murder so gruesome, most details had been withheld. His interests sparked, Dave began to dig further.

"Interesting," Dave said aloud, opening a link attached to the article.

_Husband, Son Missing. Any tips should be forwarded to Detective Rominge. See contact info below._

He smiled, closing the computer. Finn wasn't welcome in his home, that was for sure. He needed to ensure that Rachel would soon feel the same way.

* * *

Kurt emerged from the kitchen, somewhat at ease at what he returned to. Finn looked up at him, shrugging lightly and lifting Rachel into his arms. She stirred a bit, hanging onto him tightly.

"I'm going to bring her upstairs," he whispered. Kurt nodded, flopping backward onto the couch and sighing, his eyes trained at the ceiling.

Finn laid Rachel on the bed, careful to keep her shirt covering her modestly. He pulled a light blanket from the closet, covering her and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. She stirred again, her eyes fluttering open. Her gaze met his, and soon, their lips were entwined.

He pulled back instantly, wiping the kiss from his mouth. "Rachel, not now," he warned, backing away. "Not tonight."

She nodded, rolling over on the bed so she was facing away from him. He bowed his head, wishing he could have just allowed her that one bit of solace. He sighed, approaching the bed and touching her cheek lightly.

"Let me know if you need anything," he offered. She turned toward him, and he saw that she'd been crying again. "Oh, Rach," he sighed, stroking her hair. "What can I do?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Stay with me," she said, her voice a whisper but nearly begging him.

He waited a beat before answering. "Okay."

He slipped off his shoes quickly, climbing under the blanket and holding Rachel closely to him. She snuggled into the crook of his arm, her head resting on his chest. He could feel how tense she was, even still. He wished she knew how safe she would be with him.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a minute. His one hand stroked her hair softly, while the other was wrapped around her small waist, hugging her body to him.

He felt her relax into him, nodding. "Feels like home to me."

* * *

Finn woke the next morning, his arm asleep under…Rachel? The night before came flooding back to him and he inhaled deeply, staring at the ceiling. He was pretty sure it was love at this point, but he also wondered what her staying here last night would mean for her back at home.

_She could just stay here forever_, a small voice said in his head. He shook it away. He didn't really know Rachel. Not _really_. And she definitely didn't know about his life. What he'd done.

She stirred and he looked at her, meeting her big, brown eyes. She smiled a little, and then winced. The burns on her arm were bright red, and she bit her lip as tears swelled in her eyes.

She was remembering it, too.

"Are you okay?" he asked, knowing that she wasn't. He wanted to get her to a hospital, but something told him that she still wouldn't agree to go.

She nodded. "It'll be fine."

They laid in silence for a while, his arms hugging her to his chest. He liked Rachel's company. He was pretty sure she enjoyed his company, too.

"Finn, I'm really sorry."

He sighed, nodding. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she replied, sitting up. She was still wearing his t-shirt and the bruises on her neck were bright purple in the morning light. He furrowed his brow at the thought of Dave's hands around her small neck, squeezing her.

He brought his hand to her arm, stroking it gently with the back of his fingers. "It really is, Rachel. I care about you, no matter what. If you ever need me, I'm always here. No matter what," he repeated.

She released a little smile, looking out the window. Dave's car was gone. She would be safe. For now.

"I should probably go home," she said, nodding toward her house.

"Maybe not just yet," Finn replied, pulling her down to him again, and pressing his lips to hers.

Kurt was in the kitchen when Rachel emerged, wearing the t-shirt she'd arrived in last night, as well as a pair of sweatpants she probably borrowed from Finn.

"You know, I have some clothes that would probably fit you better," he laughed at the way the bottom of Finn's pants were rolled up, just barely missing the floor. She laughed, agreeing with him.

"Want some breakfast?" Finn asked, appearing suddenly behind her. She shrugged.

"Probably nothing I would eat here," she teased, poking him in the side.

"Ah, but wait!" Finn said, strolling over to the refrigerator and pulling out a package of turkey bacon. "You've inspired me, Rachel Berry."

She blushed slightly at his use of her whole name. She nodded, taking a seat next to Kurt at the table. He poured her a cup of coffee while Finn got to work on the breakfast.

As Rachel sipped her coffee, she stole a careful glance at Finn. He was strong; she could see the outline of his muscles beneath his shirt. Very tall, too, something she found quite attractive. The kindness he exposed to her was unlike anything she'd experienced, ever.

Kurt watched as Rachel stared at Finn, and he smiled behind the pages of the paper he was reading. He knew there was something more there, especially since Finn had spent the night with her last night. His thoughts turned to Blaine. He couldn't leave Finn's house yet. Not with Rachel returning home. He hadn't been there when she needed him before and he'd be damned if he ran away when she needed him now.

"I'm going to get in the shower," Kurt announced, standing and folding his paper. "And then I'm probably going to head over to Blaine's."

"Blaine?" Rachel asked, puzzled. Kurt quickly filled her in and then made his departure. Soon, the sound of the shower broke the silence that had filled the kitchen.

"Rachel," Finn said, urgency in his voice. "I'm sorry that I tried to pressure you to leave him. But look at what's going on here. You were actually burned last night. They don't look so bad, and they hopefully won't scar, but someone you love and trust did that to you."

She refused to meet his eyes, tears threatening to emerge from hers. "I know," she said quietly, bringing the coffee to her lips. She really didn't want to talk to him. He wouldn't understand.

"Why do you stay?" he asked, and she finally looked at him, this time, unable to hold back her tears.

"Dave was there for me in a moment that no one else was. He saved me, Finn, and I owe him my life."

"How can you say that he saved you, Rachel? He's _killing_ you."

Rachel shook her head, shrugging. She was done having this conversation. Finn stood and made her a plate, serving it to her before digging in on his own. They ate in silence, stealing looks at one another when the other wasn't looking.

_Was this how their relationship would be?_ Finn wondered. _A few confrontations that ended when the other didn't feel like speaking?_

"I almost killed my stepfather," he revealed suddenly, and the fork Rachel was bringing to her mouth clattered on the plate.

"What?" she whispered, her face pale. Her eyes widened and she was clearly panicking, so he reached out for her hand.

"He killed my mom, Rachel. And in a moment of grief, I just started whaling on him." He began to cry, and Rachel reached for his other hand as well. "I stopped, and he was barely moving. I couldn't kill him. I'm not like him."

"I know, Finn," she reassured him, and he sat in silence for a minute.

He took a deep breath and continued. "Rachel, an abusive marriage ended my mom's life. I can't call her and tell her about my day, or how I met this amazing woman who lives across the street. I can't go to her house and have dinner when I don't feel like cooking. She won't be at my wedding, or be able to meet my kids someday. She's gone, because I didn't do something. And I'll be damned if I let that happen to you."

Rachel was crying now, pulling her hands from his. Her reasons for staying with Dave paled in comparison to his reasons for her to leave.

"It means a lot to me that you told me that, Finn, but it's not that easy to just leave."

He nodded. "I know."

"I need to go home, Finn. I need to try to make things right with him, at least."

Finn nodded again. He wouldn't be able to get through to her, he realized now. All he could do was sit back and watch his history repeat itself.


	14. Chapter 14

**Woo! Uploading again! Enjoy your weekend... x A**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen.

Rachel stood on her porch, mustering up the courage to knock on the front door. Before she could, though, it opened, and Dave stood in the doorway, looking like a kicked puppy. She was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Why were you going to knock?" he asked, amusement obvious in his voice. "This is your house, Rach."

She inhaled, nodding. It was, it was their house. She didn't feel welcome there...she didn't _belong_ there. She lifted her gaze and saw a sullen look on Dave's face.

"You're leaving me," he said bluntly, finally meeting her eyes.

"Dave…"

"For him?" he asked, nodding toward Finn's house. She turned, and she could see Finn standing in the window. She turned back to Dave, her mouth set in a line. "Before you do, Rach, there's something you should see."

Rachel hesitated, and then followed him into the house. She inhaled deeply, her body tensing as the memory of the night before came back to her. Dave paused, turning to her.

"I would do anything for you, Rachel," he said, a dark hint in his voice. She nodded, her face softening in response. "I'm trying to protect you."

"What is it, Dave?" she hid her exasperation as best she could. He would do anything _to_ her, not for her. It took a lot of effort not to laugh at his offer of protection, that was for sure.

He pulled up the page on his computer, turning the screen to face her. She paled at the sight of what Dave had found, and sunk slowly into the chair at the desk. She scrolled down, reading the details, bringing her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. She pushed the keyboard back away from her, the tears spilling from her eyes.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"He did this," Dave said in response, and Rachel jumped out of the chair, shaking her head.

"I'm going to be sick."

She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door, retching into the toilet. Reaching up, she grabbed the hand towel that hung beside the sink. Rachel sat on the floor, grasping the hand towel to her mouth as she sobbed. She'd emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. The thought of Finn coming home to that scene was too much to bear. Her poor Finn, seeing his mother that way. She felt bile rise in her throat and heaved into the toilet again.

"Rachel?" he knocked on the door. She could hear the grin in his voice. That _bastard_.

"I'm okay," she responded, standing up. Her legs were weak beneath her and she leaned on the sink until she gained her composure. She swished some water in her mouth and opened the bathroom door.

"You sure?" he asked, concern masking the pleasure he was obviously getting from seeing her so upset. She had to talk to Finn.

"I'm fine," she responded, trying to brighten as much as possible.

He pulled her chin up to look at him. "Rachel, we have problems, but you can't leave me. Especially when you don't know what you're running into."

She inhaled and smiled slightly, trying to ease the nausea she felt. "I'm not leaving you, Dave. I just need things around here to change."

"I'm off on a business trip today, baby, and when I get back, we're going to counseling."

He sounded so sincere, Rachel wondered if he really did want to change. She nodded, allowing him to embrace her. Tears filled her eyes again as she caught a glimpse of Dave's computer over his shoulder.

_Finn_.

* * *

Finn paced anxiously as he waited for the door to open, for Rachel to emerge with a suitcase. Minutes passed, then an hour. He considered going over there to see what was going on.

"Stop it, Finn," Kurt warned, flipping a page in his magazine. He, too, was worried about Rachel, but pacing wouldn't help anything.

"I should go over there," Finn said, obviously looking for Kurt's permission to barge in on them.

"What if they're having sex?" Kurt posed, and Finn shook his head.

"She wouldn't do that."

"Have sex with her husband?" Kurt asked, mocking Finn. "How incredulous."

Finn glared at Kurt, silencing him. Finally, the door opened and Dave walked out, carrying a briefcase. What?

Kurt joined Finn at the window just as Dave waved to them, and gave a meek wave back to him as he backed away.

"Freak," he said, raising his eyebrows. "All good then, probably?"

Finn was unsure until he saw her in the bedroom window, watching as Dave pulled away. Finn caught her attention and she gave him a half smile, pulling her drapes closed.

"What?" he wondered aloud, confused. He turned away from the window and Kurt shrugged.

"I'll go over in a minute," he offered. Finn nodded, walking to the kitchen and opening a beer. He took a swig and sighed, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

Rachel knew Finn would come looking for her in a bit, but she needed a minute, just the two of them. She gave him what she thought was a reassuring smile and pulled the drapes closed. She pulled open the closet, unfolding the step stool and reaching for the memory box stuffed in the back of the linens.

She stepped down, sitting on the floor and opening the box. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as she touched the sonogram. Her baby.

"_I'm so lucky," Dave said that night, pushing his plate away from him and leaning back in his chair, gesturing for Rachel to sit on his lap. "My two babes," he'd said, placing a hand on her belly._

_She smiled, placing her hand on his. A baby._

"_Marry me," he said suddenly. _

"_What?" she retorted, standing quickly. He stood too, and grasped her hands in his. _

"_We can have this, Rach. Think about it. Do you really want to be phased out of Broadway as the has-been who got knocked up and couldn't keep a part? Come on."_

_His words stung her. Has-been? Rachel Berry? Please._

_He knew he'd struck a chord. "Rach, baby, marry me. I'll take care of you. You'll never have to work a day in your life."_

"_Dave, I don't know."_

"_Rachel, please," he begged, dropping to his knees, her hands still enclosed in his. _

_He was on his knees in front of her, begging her to be with him. Maybe it was something worth thinking about._

"_Okay," she finally said, and he embraced her tightly. _

"_I love you," he'd said. She thought he meant it. _

"_I love you, too," she responded. She knew she didn't._

"Rachel?" Kurt's voice pulled Rachel from her thoughts. She scurried to get the scattered things back in the box, but it was too late.

"What is all this?" he asked, crossing his ankles and sitting across from her on the floor.

"Please, don't," she responded, gathering the things into the box and closing it.

"Rachel, tell me," he prodded, grasping her wrist.

"No. Not yet. I can't tell him yet."

"Tell who? Finn?" he asked, holding on to her wrist as she tried to wriggle free. She nodded, wiping tears from her face with her free hand. "I'm not Finn, Rachel. Tell me."

She succumbed to his efforts to hold onto her, and sat back on her feet. He relinquished her wrist, and she told him everything.

* * *

Kurt sat stone-faced while Rachel divulged her secret past to him. Thoughts whizzed through his mind at an alarming rate, and he shut his eyes, inhaling sharply. Holding up his hands, he shook his head.

"_That_ is why you left?" he asked, picking up the sonogram and touching it lightly. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I didn't…keep it," she said, hanging her head in shame. He sat up grabbing the sides of Rachel's face gently so she would look at him.

"You had…"

"Yes," she responded, gathering the things back in the box. "And I regret it every day. Finn can't know, and neither can Dave."

"Wait, Dave doesn't know?" Kurt was confused.

"No. He thinks I lost it, and I want to keep it that way."

"Rachel, do you realize how bad that is?

She sat back on her feet, sighing. "Kurt, let me explain."

* * *

_She fell to the floor, a metal taste filling her mouth from that last blow. She brought her hand to touch her face, the bright red blood spilling out of her mouth and onto the floor._

_He stilled before grabbing her by the hair, pulling her to her feet. She cried out in pain, knowing instantly that was a mistake. He hit her even harder, still holding onto her hair as she jerked from the blow._

_"Dave, please…" she begged, cradling her stomach to protect her baby. He slapped her across the face in response._

I'm going to die_, she thought, tears welling in her eyes as she thought of the poor, innocent baby inside of her._

_When he was finished, she laid on the floor, still cradling her unborn baby. He was drunk, she knew that. He had never hit her before, and now, he'd beaten her worse than she ever could've imagined._

_She sat up, wiping the blood and tears from her face. She grazed her hand across her stomach, knowing then what she had to do._

* * *

"Oh, Rachel," Kurt sighed, pulling her into his arms.

"I couldn't let him hurt my baby," she said, heaving as she sobbed. "He wasn't going to let me leave him, and I couldn't let him hurt my baby."

"I know," he soothed, patting her hair and letting her cry into his chest. What in the world was he going to tell Finn?

_Nothing_, he decided. This was his best friend, no matter what. He had a loyalty to Rachel. Plus, it really was none of his business to be telling anyone anything.

When Rachel pulled away from him, she wiped the tears from her face. She stood, picking the box up from the floor and bringing it back to the closet, tucking it away.

"Dave can never know," she repeated, and hung her head again. Kurt nodded, knowing she couldn't see him.

"Want to go get lunch?"

Rachel closed the door to the closet, turning around. Her face was red and tear-streaked. "Let me fix myself up a little bit first."

* * *

Kurt rested his hand on the doorknob of Finn's room. He brought his other hand up to knock.

"Come in," Finn called from inside, and Kurt opened the door to see him shutting his laptop. Finn turned to face Kurt. "What's up?"

"Rachel is home," Kurt said, wincing preemptively.

"What?" Finn said, standing and walking quickly to the door. "I thought you were going to get her!"

"I was!" Kurt defended himself. "We went out to lunch and shopped for hours, and she didn't change her mind. She wants to stay."

"_What?_" Finn responded incredulously. "Why?"

"Jesus, Finn, she always has the same reason."

"No way," Finn said, grabbing the door and jogging down the stairs. "I'm not letting her."

"You do realize you don't have much of a choice…" Kurt responded, following him as he opened the front door and stalked over to Rachel's house. She must've seen him coming, because she met him on the porch.

"Finn…" she said, tears in her eyes.

"No, Rachel, this is ridiculous."

"I know it sounds crazy, Finn, but I do love him."

"Rachel, _please_," Finn pleaded, grabbing her hands. "Please don't do this."

"I'm sorry, Finn," she said, her voice suddenly clear. "You have to go."

With that, Rachel walked back into her house and shut the door. Finn heard the lock turn, and he stood there, staring, dejected. He felt Kurt's hand on his shoulder just as he heard a car pull up. _Shit_.

Dave rushed out of the car and onto the porch, positioning himself between the door and Finn. His anger radiated off of him, forcing Finn out of his thoughts.

"Finn, you need to leave. _Now_," Dave said, a threatening tone lacing his otherwise even voice.

Finn shook his head. "So you can hit her again? Burn her? I don't think so."

Dave took a step toward Finn and Finn felt Kurt step backwards, obviously nervous. He wasn't afraid of Dave. "You don't understand, Finn. Rachel is my wife. This is our house. _You_," he said, pointing a finger at Finn, "are a trespasser. I will have you arrested if you keep harassing my wife."

Finn swallowed, his eyes glancing sideways at Rachel, who was now peering out of the curtains. He nodded, training his eyes back on Dave.

"Fine," he said curtly, leaning into Dave. "But understand this. If I hear so much as a whimper coming from your house, I will come and get her, and not let her come back here."

Dave chuckled, meeting Finn's threatening gaze. Straightening his face, he leaned in closer to Finn. "Understand _this_," he said, forcing his fist into Finn's lower stomach. "Stay. Away. From. My. Wife," he said slowly. Finn groaned at the contact, biting his tongue between his lips.

Dave turned and unlocked the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Jesus, Finn," Kurt said, rushing to his side. "You just made it worse."

Finn looked to where Rachel had been standing to see a slight movement in the curtains. She didn't want to leave Dave, that was clear. But she _did_ want Finn. And he wasn't ready to stop fighting for her yet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's a quick update for you! Enjoy...and please review! xx A**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen.

Rachel moved from the window quickly as she saw Dave enter the house. He gave her a quick glare, obviously tense from what she'd just witnessed outside.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you," she said sweetly, briskly walking over to him. His eyes narrowed, he still said nothing. "Why are you home so soon?"

The silence was now getting to her, and she began to worry. He was angry, that was clear, but how could he be angry with her?

After what seemed like hours, he inhaled and broke his gaze, shaking his head. "That guy…" he said, and she looked down.

"I know, Dave. I'm sorry," she offered, and he pushed his finger under her chin, lifting her head so her eyes met his.

"Stay away from him while I'm gone, Rachel. I mean it."

She nodded, forcing a smile. "Of course. What are you doing home?"

"Forgot my laptop," he responded shortly. "Gotta pack, too."

She smiled, nodding. "I'll make you a sandwich while you pack."

He kissed her cheek, wrapping his jacket around the back of the chair and heading upstairs. She turned to head into the kitchen when she heard his phone buzz. Ignoring it, she waited until the vibrations stopped and walked toward the kitchen. It rang again, and this time, she turned toward it. _If it keeps buzzing, maybe it's an emergency_, she thought, justifying her urge to reach into his pocket and look at who was calling.

_Dana_? She frowned. Who was Dana, and why was she calling so insistently? Against her better judgment, Rachel accepted the call, bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone, silence on the other end. "Hello?"

_Click_.

Rachel looked at the phone, the call disconnected. She grabbed a pen and jotted down Dana's number, slipping Dave's phone back into his coat pocket. She heard the zipper on his suitcase and leapt into the kitchen, whipping up a sandwich and sticking it in a plastic bag, Dana weighing heavily on her mind.

"Hey," he said, coming into the kitchen. He squeezed her arms from behind, burying his face in her neck. "You smell delicious."

She smiled, leaning her head on his. "I love you," she said softly, and she meant it.

* * *

Detective Rominge pulled to the side of the street, cutting the engine and adjusting his position. He knew something was up with the waitress, and sure enough, she made a phone call as soon as he stepped out. Her call led him here, to a quiet street with pretty nice houses on it.

He watched as a wife kissed her husband goodbye, and he watched as the husband pulled away, leaving the wife on the sidewalk outside their house. He watched a couple of kids playing a baseball game in their front yard, and a woman tending her garden.

He was here. He could feel how close he was getting.

Rachel watched Dave drive away, and stayed there for a while afterwards. She forgot what it was like to nuzzle her husband, his loving kisses muting her moans of pleasure. Dave was on the upswing.

_Was it because of Dana?_

She pushed the thought out of her head. Her husband wouldn't cheat on her.

_He's done a lot of things you didn't think he'd do._

No. Not this.

She folded her arms, turning back toward her house and ascending the porch steps. She paused at the front door, and opted to sit on the porch swing instead.

_Something is missing._

No, nothing is missing. Dave, her loving Dave, he was back, and that alone made her feel more complete. She was feeling better after the _Exorcist_-like explosion she'd had the day before.

_Nothing is missing,_ she insisted, desperate to turn off the voice inside her head. She has everything she wants now.

She looked toward Finn's house, a longing tugging at her heart. _Not everything_.

* * *

He waited until darkness fell, and stepped out of his car. The cell phone was not accurate enough to pinpoint his exact location, but it brought him here. This must be where he's hiding.

He shut the door, taking long strides toward the house on the opposite side of the street. Peering in the windows, he saw a man on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television.

He repeated his steps at almost every house on the street, stopping a little longer at the woman's house. He'd watched her sit outside for almost an hour, staring at the house across the street. He watched as silent tears rolled down her face.

She wasn't his concern right now, but it _was_ his duty to make sure she was okay.

He looked in her window, watching her stretch on the living room floor. Yoga.

Impressed, he stepped away from the window. So, she was okay. Moving on.

He made his way up the street, no luck finding Finn. Where was this guy, and how was he so good at hiding?

* * *

Kurt narrowed his eyes; sure he saw movement outside the window. He stood from his position on the couch, making his way to the window. He looked up and down the street from the window, shrugging as he pulled the drapes closed. Finn emerged from the kitchen with a beer for him, wine for Kurt. Kurt grabbed the glass from him, crossing his legs and plopping back down on the couch. It was probably nothing.

"Dude, what _is _this?"

"Tabitha. She's a miracle worker, I swear."

Finn rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his beer and peering at the label. "I'm gonna need a few more of these."

Kurt hit him playfully, shoving the remote into Finn's hand. This caught Finn by surprise. Kurt was not the kind to relinquish _anything_, let alone the remote.

Quickly, before Kurt could change his mind, Finn flipped the channel to hockey.

"Jesus, Finn, could you be any more of a man?"

Finn grabbed the crotch of his jeans, squinting as though he was thinking. "Nope."

Kurt smirked at him. He liked Finn, quite a bit. He was a good guy. Questionable, but really nice nonetheless. Kurt sipped his wine and Finn turned to him, now aware of his staring.

"What?" he asked, taking another swig of his beer. "Tank's empty."

He stood, walking toward the kitchen as the doorbell rang. "Can you get that, Kurt?"

"Sure," Kurt responded, walking toward the door and whipping it open to find Rachel, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't meet his eyes, and mumbled to him.

"What is it?" Kurt asked, pulling Rachel inside.

"Is Finn home?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's in the kitchen. What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to Finn," she responded, sitting on the couch, her arms still folded. Kurt was getting scared, and he called Finn into the room.

He emerged, a fresh beer in his hand. "What?" he asked, spotting Rachel on the couch, unable to meet his eyes. "What's up?"

"Can I talk to you?" she said, her voice shaky. "I…need to talk to you."

"Sure," he said, shooting Kurt a quizzical look. Kurt shrugged in response, and watched as Finn led a dazed Rachel up the stairs.

* * *

Detective Rominge sat back in his car, looking at the map from the cell phone again. Where is this guy?

His phone beeped, interrupting the silence. Checking it, he saw he had three missed calls and numerous texts from his boss.

_Get back here, Rom. NOW._

They were all the same in context, urging him to return to the investigation behind the desk. That was getting them nowhere, did he not see that?

He shut the phone off, shoving it into his briefcase and clicking it shut. He was not done here. Not yet.

* * *

"Rachel, what is it?" Finn asked worriedly, setting his beer down on the dresser and taking a place next to Rachel on the bed. She was staring at her hands, silently sobbing. "Come on, Rach, what's going on?"

"Dave," she said, choking on her words.

"Did he hit you again?" Finn asked, his anger bubbling up.

"No," she said quickly. "It's not that."

"Then what? What is it?" he asked, taking her hands in his. She finally met his gaze, inhaling and swallowing her tears.

"He came home before, and he left his phone. It was ringing so I picked it up, and…" she started to cry again, and Finn wrapped his arms around her, softly stroking her hair as she cried. Finally, she spoke again. "He's cheating on me."

Finn pursed his lips, closing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows close together. "Why do you care?" he asked, and she pulled away from him, confusion in her eyes. He held his hands up in the air, shrugging. "I'm just saying, you didn't exactly remain faithful to him. I don't know why you're so upset."

Rachel started sobbing, holding her knees to her chest and burying her face in her lap. Finn rubbed her back, allowing her to take as long as she needed. She said something incoherent, and he leaned in closer to her.

"Rachel, what?" he asked, his face now inches from hers.

"I care, Finn. I have to."

"Why?" he asked, and she finally pulled her head up and looked at him.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

**I know you guys will have something to say about this...so please leave reviews! A**


End file.
